Flesh And Blood Heroes Novels & Stories

Fear succumbed her whole body making her unable to move. "N-no! I am not the cure! Stay away from me! No!!!" That was the last words were heard by her as the people started tearing her skin making her blood ooze out non-stop. With such strength by numerous people attacking her, they managed to tear apart her limbs without difficulty. There are some people who had seen this soul-taking scene and managed to ran away fast. They were scared that these people might get them.

“Unless it was family. You and me. We make a hell of a team. Son, think about it. All the connections. We could take over this city in two weeks and the state in a year. It’s out there for us, son.” “Pop. I know this is the lifestyle you grew up in, and it fed us all very well, but this lifestyle almost took you away from me. So please, excuse me if I’m not jumping for joy at the prospect of us getting so powerful in the organized family way again that we have enemies trying to kill you and me. ‘Cuz I can’t do it, pop. I just can’t do it. I saw you get shot and carried you to the ambulance, myself. I stayed by your bedside until you woke up and visited every day for physical therapy. We were

I only had one form left, to imagine that I was even considering using it is proof of how difficult this battle is. Slowly the number of demons was diminishing but there were still too many. Everywhere I turned it was demon after demon. I was getting injuries from all sides and places. I do not think there was a single area on my body which did not contain blood, MY blood. Marcus!

I stumbled and fell on a corpse, it was the elderly woman, I looked around me taunted by the lifeless faces surrounding me, slaughtered like Christmas chickens. My heart beating heavily as I slowly stood, the fallen were not weaklings, they were the bravest people in the world, they had remained unwavered by the fluctuations, lived even when death was near, loved when it seemed too stupid. They had built a strong connection, a family united by war and even when a comrade fell, they still remained humans. They never gave up on living, each new day, they would smile faintly and perform the task ahead. I tried to escape from the piles of corpses, each step clouding more tears to my hearts. I kn

I knew there was a reason I was drawn to Casper because, what the actuall fuck!!? I had never felt so thoroughly fucked in my life. My hips felt like it had been run through by a bus, but I would not have it any other way. His broad chest glistened with sweat, or water, I could not fully tell. His arm muscles flexed, I could clearly see the veins underneath his arms as he grabbed on to me, giving everything as he thrust into me with full intentions.

"You told me you don't know who. I believe you don't know the name. But you know something about them. You don't get to eighteen months inside an operation without picking up texture. What do you know?" He's quiet. His broken finger is purple now, the knuckle grotesquely swollen, and there's blood drying on his chin from the lip Declan split, and he has the look of a man who has been making calculations for the last twenty minutes and keeps arriving at the same answer, which is that he is out of leverage and what's left is just deciding how much more of this he wants before he says everything he knows. "They called them the Ghost," he says finally. "That's all I ever heard. The Ghost. Someon

"You have strength, yes. But you have no history. You have no scars." ​The false Vlad lunged, a strike that moved with the speed of a physical law. Vlad didn't parry. He stepped into the arc of the blade, letting it graze his shoulder. The blood that spilled onto the pavement was the final, undeniable proof of their humanity. It was real. It was warm. It was proof of sacrifice. ​As the blood hit the ground, something shifted. The stolen memories within the false heroes began to fray. They were built on a foundation of archive data, not lived experience. They couldn't handle the raw, chaotic input of Vlad’s pain.

Then humanity needed to change with it. At first, Husen worked alongside them willingly. He believed they were searching for a cure. For months they studied ancient blood samples preserved beneath the station. The samples behaved unlike anything known. They regenerated damaged tissue. They repaired cells. They adapted to foreign organisms instead of rejecting them. The researchers named it...Crimson Blood. Husen warned them repeatedly. "We don't understand it." Their answer never changed. "We'll never understand it if we're afraid to touch it."